Rise of the Formidable Ex-wife (Lucia and Alex) novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The restaurant was discreet and expensive. Michelin starred. Private dining room. Soft lighting. Eight clients. The ones still standing by Marco while everything else around him felt unstable.

This dinner mattered.

Margaret sat beside him in a red dress that drew attention the moment she walked in. Diamond earrings. Hair smooth and loose over her shoulders. Her makeup flawless. Calm. Confident.

She looked perfect.

Across the table sat Michael Flare. Twenty eight. Youngest Vice President at Thompson Tech. Wealthy. Ambitious. Single.

Michael had the kind of easy confidence that made people lean in when he spoke.

Marco noticed the way Michael looked at Margaret before anyone even sat down.

“So Margaret,” Michael said as he poured wine, “Marco mentioned you used to model. What was that like?” Margaret smiled slowly. “It was exciting. New York. Paris. Milan. I traveled constantly. Met interesting people. Lived fast.”

“I can imagine,” Michael said. “That must have been incredible.”

“It was,” she said. She leaned forward slightly. “You learn a lot in that world.”

Marco shifted in his chair. Charles from Anderson Tech was explaining projections. Numbers. Growth forecasts. Safe conversation.

But Marco could feel the energy across the table.

“I bet you have stories,” Michael continued.

“Oh, I do,” Margaret replied. “Some of them are too wild for business dinner.”

Michael laughed.

She touched his arm lightly as she laughed with him.

The touch was brief. But it was deliberate.

Marco kept his eyes on his plate. He told himself it was harmless. Social. Normal.

He tried to focus on Charles.

“The merger timeline,” Charles said. “Are we still looking at two to three weeks?”

“Yes,” Marco replied. “The board is reviewing the final structure. We should move soon.” But even as he spoke, he saw Margaret leaning toward Michael again.

“I’ve always loved being on the water,” she said. “Do you sail?”

“I have a boat,” Michael said. “Nothing too dramatic. Forty feet.”

Margaret widened her eyes playfully. “Only forty? That sounds charming.”

Michael smiled. He was enjoying this.

“You should come out sometime,” he said. “The weather next weekend looks perfect.”

“Maybe I will,” Margaret replied. “If I can find time.”

If I can find time.

Not we. Not Marco and I.

Marco felt heat rise in his chest.

Dinner continued. Wine refilled. Courses replaced. Business conversation layered over quiet flirting.

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Margaret laughed often. She asked Michael questions. She held his gaze longer than necessary.

She did not look at Marco much.

When she did, her expression was neutral. Calm. Almost distant.

At one point, Michael said something mildly amusing about a failed startup pitch. Margaret laughed louder than the joke deserved.

Her hand rested on his forearm for a second too long.

Marco’s jaw tightened.

“Marco?” Charles said again.

“Yes.”

“Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he said. “Just thinking through projections.”

Charles nodded and returned to his notes.

Marco wanted the dinner to end.

When dessert arrived, Michael leaned closer to Margaret.

“You don’t seem like someone who enjoys staying still,” he said quietly.

“I don’t,” she answered. “Life is short.”

“And Marco keeps up with you?”

Margaret smiled faintly. “He tries.”

Marco heard it. Every word.

The sentence was small. But it cut.

He kept his face neutral.

When the dinner finally ended, handshakes were exchanged. Promises made. Contracts hinted at.

Michael held Margaret’s hand slightly longer than necessary.

“It was a pleasure,” he said.

“For me too,” she replied.

The drive home was quiet at first.

Streetlights passed over the windshield. The engine hummed.

Margaret checked her phone.

“That went well,” she said. “Your clients seemed relaxed.”

“One of them seemed very relaxed.”

She looked up. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“Michael?” She gave a short laugh. “He’s young. Friendly. That’s all.”

“You were not just friendly.”

“I was engaging.”

“You were flirting.”

She turned in her seat to face him. “You wanted me to help you. To make a good impression. I did.”

“There’s a difference between being charming and inviting a client to take you sailing alone.”

“I said maybe.”

“You said you would check your schedule.”

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“That is not a promise. That is conversation.”

“You touched him.”

She sighed. “I touched his arm while laughing. If that shakes your world, that says more about you than about me.”

Marco tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“It felt disrespectful,” he said.

“Disrespectful?” Her tone sharpened. “You think I would embarrass you on purpose?”

“You already did.”

She stared at him. “You are insecure. That is the truth.”

“This is not about insecurity.”

“It is,” she said calmly. “You see a younger man with money and confidence and suddenly you feel threatened.” “I am not threatened.”

“You are,” she replied. “And instead of admitting it, you are accusing me of something I did not do.” “You invited him out.”

“I kept conversation open. That is called networking.”

Marco pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“I do not like watching my wife flirt with other men,” he said quietly.

“I did not flirt.”

“You did.”

Margaret’s expression went cool.

“If you cannot control your own board, why are you trying to control me?”

The words landed heavily.

“This is not about control,” he said.

“It feels like it,” she replied. “You are losing power at work and you want to feel powerful somewhere else.”

He stared at her.

“That’s unfair.”

“No,” she said. “It’s accurate.”

She opened the car door and stepped out.

“I am not shrinking myself because you feel threatened,” she added before walking inside.

Marco stayed in the car a few seconds longer.

Was he overreacting?

He replayed the dinner in his mind. The laughter. The touch. The invitation.

He could not shake the feeling in his stomach.

Inside the house, it was quiet. The children were upstairs.

He went to his office instead of the bedroom.

He poured a drink.

His mind drifted to Lucia.

Business dinners with Lucia had been calm. She had been present but not loud. Supportive. Steady. She never pulled attention toward herself.

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At the time, he had found that dull.

Now it felt safe.

He had traded safe for excitement.

And excitement came with tension.

His phone buzzed.

An email from David.

“Emergency board meeting tomorrow at nine. We need clarity on the irregular withdrawals and investor exits. Bring legal counsel.”

Marco closed his eyes.

Another problem.

He thought about the missing funds. The investor withdrawals. The pressure building.

Then he thought about Margaret laughing at Michael.

Everything felt unstable.

Upstairs, he heard footsteps. Margaret moving around.

He wondered if she was texting Michael.

The thought made him angry at himself.

He finished his drink and poured another.